The Wedding Destined to Be
by Equus-Forever
Summary: Anne and Gilbert were predestined to be husband and wife...this is the expanded story of their wedding. Based on Anne's House of Dreams.


Mellow, late-afternoon sunshine filtered through the slender, cream-colored boughs of the Green Gables apple trees. The whole orchard was alight, and it held a particular assembly—the guests for the first Green Gables wedding. The crowd murmured in expectation as they waited for the bride.

They did not have long to wait. The minister suddenly stepped forward, and the guests turned in their seats, some more easily than others, to see a starry-eyed, red-haired girl, a foamy veil flowing over her face, walking down the aisle made by the chairs grouped before the orchard. Many of the guests couldn't believe it; Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe were to be married at last. Gilbert himself was awaiting his beloved at the altar, his eyes riveted on the beautiful young maiden who was coming closer and closer.

At last, bride and groom were united before the dignified minister. There was lovely Anne, more gorgeous than any queen in her simple, lightly frilled, ivory-colored dress and veil, her creamy white hands slipping out beneath wonderfully understated lace cuffs, one certain circlet of pearls glowing on a slender hand, and an excited flush staining her pretty, rosy cheeks. Gilbert faced her, his hazel eyes glowing in his tanned face, tall and handsome in a sand-colored suit.

Marilla Cuthbert was never one to show her emotions; it just wasn't _done._ Still, as Anne and Gilbert turned way towards the minister, her eyes smarted with unshed tears of joy. Anne, _her_ sweet, accident-prone, tender-hearted Anne, was finally marrying the best young man in Avonlea. How proud Matthew would be today if he were still alive, watching his "Anne-girl" speak her vows. Or perhaps Matthew _was _proud. Did he know? It didn't seem quiet religious to speak of such things, yet the dignified lady of Green Gables couldn't help feeling that her brother was watching what was going on, with that quiet yet deep smile of his, seeing "the girl that I'm proud of" wedded at long last.

"Do you, Gilbert John Blythe, take Anne Maureen Shirley to be your lawful and wedded wife, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?"

_Lawful and wedded wife! _Gilbert felt like laughing. Such words! What about _beautiful and perfect wife? Such stiff words!_

"Yes," Gilbert blurted, feeling choked by his emotions for Anne. "I do,"

Diana Wright glowed with happiness for her best friend and old school chum as she watched Anne clasp Gilbert's hand and prepare to speak her vows. Ever since that delightful day in the Barry garden so long ago, she and "Cordelia" had been the best of kindred spirits. The plump, dark-haired young woman hoped…nay, _knew_, that Anne and Gilbert would be as happy as she and Fred had been—and were. Smiling, she cuddled small Anne Cordelia as her eyes misted at Gilbert's unwavering reply.

"Do you, Anne Maureen Shirley, take Gilbert John Blythe as your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, as long as your both shall live?"

_I have my diamond sunbursts and marble hall, _Anne was thinking. _Gil's face…it's my diamond sunburst. And this old orchard is my marble hall._

"Yes, of course," Anne gasped out, and then she giggled. "Yes," she added in softer tone. "I do."

Mrs. Rachel Lynde did not have much of an imagination, but even she thought she had never seen a lovelier couple. Anne's beauty and Gilbert's handsomeness transcended the mere ramients they wore. The shy young groom's face glowed with the pride and love of a man, without a trace of his old boyishness. Every look he sent Anne was one of loving tenderness and concern. As for his bride, she glowed with the pride and strength of a woman who has accomplished a dream that was never realized until it was almost too late. Anne had loved Gil all along!

Mrs. Rachel smiled. How different the redhead was from the skinny little scamp who had flown at her on their first fateful meeting, had single-handedly saved Minnie May Barry, helped her through Thomas' passing, and, of course, cracked a slate over Gilbert's head.

_It all started with a slate, _she thought in amusement.

"You may now kiss the bride," the minister was saying.

Gilbert swept back Anne's filmy white veil and caught her up in a swift but tender kiss. A bird that had been singing during the entire event suddenly finished up in a mad spasm of song, a shaft of light suddenly broke through the orchard, highlighting the happy couple, and Diana brought her best friend a wedding bouquet of sweet pink roses and coral-colored carnations. Anne hugged it to herself before tossing it into the crowd—which, she thought with a flash of amusement, did not contain many unmarried women.

Dora Keith caught the bouquet and blushed. Anne flashed her a bemused smile as the guests began to rise and head towards the back lawn of the pretty white farmhouse. Refreshments were arrayed on tables upon the grass, protected by an elegant bleached-canvas canopy.

"Anne!" Diana fairly shrieked, enveloping her friend in a huge hug. "That was _so beautiful!_"

"I know it," the happy newlywed smiled, gazing at Gilbert, who'd drawn up behind her.

Jane Andrews smiled indulgently. "That was simply sweet, Anne! Mother said you looked like you were having second thoughts, though. She said, 'Anne _had better not_ turn 'round and ruin the wedding like Lucy Raines did ten years ago. She jilted _her_ husband at the altar'".

"Trust me, I had no qualms!" Anne exclaimed in merriment, her warm grey eyes dancing. Gilbert was receiving his own round of compliments now, so she and her girlfriends moved off, chattering.

"Anne!" Marilla called, trotting towards her. "Anne, wait!"

"Hello, Marilla," the spirited young woman smiled. "I thought you were talking to Mrs. Harrison."

"I was, but then Mrs. Harmon Andrews asked Mrs. Harrison her 'a'pinion' of the wedding," Marilla replied, cracking a rare smile of amusement. "Anne-girl, that was a lovely wedding. I'm so happy for you. I know I've always seemed distant and cold at times, but I was always real proud of you."

"Distant? Cold?" Anne exclaimed. "My beloved Marilla, don't think that way! I've always loved you. You've always been there to keep me from losing my head."

"I have that,"

"Why, without you, who knows where I'd be? Probably a house-maid for Mrs. Blewett!"

"Well, you do make sense, Anne. I just didn't know if you'd ever felt that I didn't care for you," Marilla said slowly.

"That's nonsense, dearest Marilla, and you know it," Anne smiled.

That night in Four Winds, Anne stole away from Gilbert's side for a moment to write a poem that had suddenly flown into her head. She read it aloud to Gilbert before they'd gone to bed that night, and he'd raved it to the skies.

_I'm sitting here in this shadowed, sweet place_

_Occupied by visions of diamond and lace_

_And then I see my beloved's face_

_And know that this is home, sweet home_

_I no longer need to roam._

"A silly little rhyme-thing," Anne had scoffed. "Ace, ome! That's my rhyming there. I'm certainly no Tennyson!"

"But you're Anne," Gilbert whispered, drawing her close. "That's all that matters."


End file.
